Healed
by coffeewriter1
Summary: A desperate man might try desperate measures for someone he loves. Part of the "Encounters with the King" series.


(Based on the story in Matthew 8:5-13

I rose from my prayers in despair. In the other room, I could hear the servant that I loved struggling to rise. He had come to me as a slave, inherited from my father when I put on the white toga of manhood. Yet we had become fast friends, and I had eventually set him free. He stayed, still.

Everyone said I was a fool, but I had no reason to distrust him. He was messenger and bodyguard, tutor and seneschal and a thousand other things, repaying my trust ten thousand times since he had come to me. The sickness had come suddenly, striking hard at him, taking his legs. Now it was taking his arms, and I feared it would take his very breath.

Never had I felt so powerless. I was a centurion, commander of a hundred men that followed my every order. And I had no power to reverse the course of this wasting illness. I had started prayers with my own gods, Jupiter and Mars and even the new Mithra, coming from Persia. They had not deigned to answer. Perhaps they couldn't, for here in Galilee was the god of the Jews, the strange deity that had no image and was worshipped with the blood of goats and lambs. I could be no part of their strange faith, but a priest I had spoken to in desperation said I could still pray.

So I had, morning and evening, bargaining for the life of one I trusted almost more than any other. I tried...truly I tried to believe, for if this strange god was truly the Creator of All, he could do a small action for a poor, powerless man.

I was interrupted from my despair by the voice of my second, Marius. "No change?" he said softly.

I shook my head. Marius spoke. "You have heard of the Galilean prophet, Lucius?"

"I have," I said. His speeches had stirred the people. Though I knew of false messiahs, revolutionaries made for the cross, this man had said nothing of war, but a new way, a simple life that would even appeal to me, a pagan. All he said was reasonable, for I followed, or tried to follow, what the Jews called the commandments and the Greeks called the law of nature. But a healer...no man had such power. "What of it?"

"There was a leper. I knew him well. Today he was clean, as clean as though he had never suffered." Marius, like me, gave to the poor, and sometimes visited the small colony of lepers outside Capernaum. "I...could not believe it. He said that the prophet had healed him."

"Impossible! The gods do not give such gifts to men!"

"My own eyes do not deceive me," Marius said, only a little stiffly. He still sounded shocked, as though he, too, did not believe it. "Could he also…"

Wild hope stirred in me. If he could heal the impossible...I was reaching for my cloak almost before I could complete the thought. My wife came from the inner room of our villa. "Where are you going?" she asked.

I could not burden her with false hope. Just because Yeshua might heal the sick did not mean he would heal my beloved servant. Could did not mean would, and I knew that very well. "I am checking a rumor," I said. "I will return shortly. Marius, come with me. We will bring ten of the men as well."

Soon I had my small squad. It was a sunny day, and everyone was out in Capernaum, especially the fishermen selling their catch. It seemed this orator had chosen at least one to be his dsciple, an unlikely rumor. Orators never chose such followers.

"The Galilean is down by the docks," Marius said. We had a clear path, for we marched in order, and I knew my grim spirit showed on my face. My men did not even have to use their spears to clear the way, a miracle in itself.

Yeshua was unremarkably ordinary. People were streaming away from him, and it seemed clear he was finished teaching for the day. Auspicious timing, then. His followers stood around him, and I saw the rumor of fishermen following him was true.

He looked up as I approached and smiled. I did not see him as dangerous, for he had an open, honest face and clear eyes. Not mad, nor a revolutionary with secrets to hide.

"Welcome, Lucius," he said. "And to your men. I am finished teaching today, but you are welcome to stay. Peter," he motioned to the stocky man, "is preparing some fish for our evening meal."

"I do not come for the teaching," I said, feeling out of sorts. "My servant, he lies...paralyzed, and...and the old gods have done nothing for him. I heard you healed a leper...can you…" I did not know how to finish the words.

"I will come and heal him," Yeshua said. His voice was unshakeable, full of power greater even than Caesar, almost as though he was one of the gods above. I knew authority, and this man had it. I bowed low.

"I am not worthy for you to come under my roof," I said softly. "Just say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me. I say to one, "Go," and he goes. "Come, and he comes." And I say to my servant, "Do this," and he does it."

Jesus looked amazed. "I tell you the truth, I have not seen faith like this in all of Israel." His eyes flashed, taking in the crowed that had assembled to see the scene. "And I say to you that many will come east and west, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the sons of the kingdom will be cast into outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth."

I didn't understand all of what he was saying, but he seemed to be holding me up as an example. Me! I had come to bargain, to deal, as I did with the gods of Rome. Faith? What faith did I have? Yet the orator who was more called my faith great. Maybe he was crazy after all.

Yeshua turned to me with a smile. "Go your way, and as you have believed, let it be done for you." It was a dismissal, and I left as though dismissed by Pilate. I could see my home on the hill above Capernaum, and I wondered what would be seen when I returned.

I was halfway up the hill, wrapped in my own thoughts, when I saw my wife flying toward me. I hurried faster, fearing something had happened, but as I approached, I saw she was laughing, not crying. I embraced her tightly. "What is it, Drusilla?" I said, feeling her joy as she leaned against my chest.

"Your servant...he is healed! He is weak, and so I had the slaves feed him, but he can move again."

"When?" I asked.

"But moments ago," she said, and I felt amazed. That was when Yeshua had promised…"Come!" I said. "I want you to meet someone. Marius, you can take the men home. Have word of this spread, that Yeshua is under my protection if he wishes."

Marius nodded, his stern face cracking in a small smile. "As you command," he said, and I could hear the joy in his voice.

That is how I became a follower of Yeshua, for he had healed the impossible, and done what only God could do. Later, I would pay the price for that belief, but at that moment, there was only joy.

 **A/N: Lucius, Marius and Drusilla were common Roman names. It is possible the characters did indeed have those names.**

 **Mithra, though not as commonly worshipped as he would be two hundred years later, was still known. Mars, of course, is the god of war, worshipped by most soldiers, and Jupiter is the king of the gods. Lucius' thoughts, of course, reflect his military background and training, where there was strict order and authority. He would recognize both power and danger as easily as we recognize our own friends.**

 **So far I have done the centurion with the paralyzed servant, the woman with perfume, Peter, the man possessed by Legion, and the blind man at the pool of Bethsaida. Any suggestions for who I should do next? I do have an idea in mind for Christmas, but I want to do one or two more between now and then...any suggestions are welcome!**


End file.
